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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24514396">Whiskers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writers_whimsy/pseuds/Writers_whimsy'>Writers_whimsy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Beards (Facial Hair), Body Image, Dwarf Culture &amp; Customs, Gen, People are Assholes, Tags Are Hard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:22:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>889</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24514396</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writers_whimsy/pseuds/Writers_whimsy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A dwarf's beard is their pride and joy. </p>
<p>Kili has barely more than stubble.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Whiskers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kili turned his head this way and that in the room the elves had given them to bathe in, trying to get a full likeness of himself in the reflective water in the basin before him. He scowled at his reflection and scrubbed rough fingers along his jaw. </p>
<p>  Pathetic. </p>
<p>  They had been on this quest for ages now and his beard was no longer than it had been on the day he left Erud Luin. He’d seen dwarrowdams barely past their mother’s knee with fuller beards. </p>
<p>  It wasn’t that it had to be a mighty beard; as bushy and full as Gloin’s. It would be nice, no arguments there, but even Ori had a fuller beard than Kili. It was embarrassing.</p>
<p>  He remembered all too well the jeers in the taverns and hushed whispers in the halls of Erud Luin. More like an elf than a dwarf. My sister was born with longer whiskers! Tall, aye, but too skinny by far. Then there were the whispers, shared in even quieter corners, that maybe he wasn’t actually all-dwarf at all but some kind of halfbreed. Elf, man, the rumours varied. The punishment did not. Kili made sure any tongue he heard wagging with those rumours felt his wrath. The comments on his appearance he could put up with, but besmirching his mother’s honour and good name was something else entirely. </p>
<p>  He had silently borne Thorin’s ire numerous times for breaking teeth with his fist. He never told him why he started those fights. Never tried to defend himself to his Uncle and bore his disappointment with stoic determination. He would not shame the line of Durin by giving those despicable rumours any more breath than had already been wasted. </p>
<p>  He would not let himself say the words out loud and possibly have Thorin confirm them.</p>
<p>  Hit with a sudden burst of rage and disgust, Kili swept the bowl off its plinth. The stone basin upended and landed with an almighty crash, chips of granite skittering across the floor in a wash of water.</p>
<p>  The door burst open seconds later and Kili turned to see his brother, swords in hand and ready to bash in elf-skulls. There was a moment of quiet surprise when Fili saw none but his brother in the room.</p>
<p>  “Kili-”</p>
<p>  “It’s nothing,” Kili snapped. He did not particularly wish to have this conversation with his brother. His brother who had first started braiding his mustache in his early sixties. Who was obviously dwarf to his very core. He actually shaved most of the rest of his beard off; chose to keep the braids at their current length, trimming them with great care. By morning Kili would be laughing at his brother’s fastidious care along with everybody else but tonight he wanted nothing more than to shave the entire Company as bald as Bilbo and be done with it.</p>
<p>  Fili frowned and lowered his weapons.</p>
<p>  “Kili,” he tried again.</p>
<p>  “I said it is nothing,” Kili bit out shortly. He pulled his hair back out of his face savagely with one hand and scowled at his brother as it immediately fell back into the same place. </p>
<p>  Fili eyed his brother carefully, clearly weighing up the pros and cons of ignoring his brother’s silent demand to just piss off already, and forcing him to talk. Kili thought for a moment, that that was just what he was going to do but Fili merely inclined his head once and sheathed his weapons.</p>
<p>  “Food is ready,” he said stiffly, and left.</p>
<p>  Kili sighed and leant back against the plinth the basin had rested on. It was, naturally, too tall and dug in just below his shoulders. He sighed again and tipped his head back, wearily scrubbing his face with both hands.</p>
<p>  Dammit all.</p>
<p>  He hadn’t meant to snap. Hadn’t meant to lose his temper at all. Now he had to go make it up to his brother somehow. Show it wasn’t him he was angry with.<br/>

</p><p>  He was just tired, he reasoned with himself. Tired and hungry and frustrated and maybe a little afraid. He thought they were going to be Orc dinner for sure today. He was just a little on edge. Some food, some rest in a real bed and he would be fine.</p>
<p>  His bristles tickled his palms and he sighed again, lowering his chin and smoothing fingers over the short hairs. Really, it was better this way. Truly. He didn’t have to spend half as much time making himself look respectable again after days on the road. Fili would add that he never looked respectable but that was just him being an older brother. He didn’t have to use as much of their admittedly limited supply of soap to get properly clean. And besides, a beard would just get in the way of his shooting. He had yet to see an archer of any race with a full and flowing beard.</p>
<p>  Settling his hair with a rough hand, tugging his tunic straighter, Kili stood and eyed the damage he had caused out of the corner of his eye. There was a brief flash of embarrassment at his outburst but he quickly squashed it. </p>
<p>  It had been an ugly thing anyway. Terrible craftsmanship.</p>
<p>  Head held high, Kili went in search of his brother and the promise of a meal.</p>
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